


The Scissors Incident

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neurodivergent Newt, hermann is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 04:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11843910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: When Newton ruffles Hermann's feathers once again, Hermann takes it upon himself to teach him a lesson.





	The Scissors Incident

**Author's Note:**

> I love my boys so much and I finally wrote fanfic for them thank god!!! anyway i suck at tags but come scream with me at mochabisexual at tumblr dot hell

Newt was no stranger to overcoming adversity in science.

The molotov cocktail that was his mental health, combined with his dyslexia and decidedly unprofessional nature towards his colleagues, had made finding people who could keep up (and put up) with him rather difficult. He liked to joke that these things were a cosmic limiter to keep him from getting _too_ powerful, and that the universe was simply covering all it’s bases. Even so, these were more of a limiter on his social opportunities, and less of one on his ability to do science. Newt was, in his own words, “really fucking good” at that. 

However, sometimes he wanted to just tear his own hair out at the one thing about him that made his job actually hard.

Newt was left-handed.

Every goddamn thing in society was specially made to cater directly to right-handed people. Team sports, door knobs, even the entire freaking English writing system! It was unoticable if you didn’t face it, but if you were in science? Which was a field that needed a large amount of of specific tools? You noticed. Newt certainly did.

The worst offender was the goddamn scissors. If Newt lost his, he couldn’t just borrow anyone else’s pair. No, Newt had to spend one to two hours walking all over the Shatterdome, just to find another pair of left-handed scissors. It was a tragedy! It was a travesty! It just wasn’t fair.

Newt was rather vocal about his feelings on the subject, so in hindsight, he probably should have put two and two together when his only pair went missing. 

The day before had been… not lacking in volume, to say the least. Newt had, in a fit of what he called “manic scientific genius causing a temporary brain fart,” forgotten the Kaiju blue all over his hands in a rush to get more coffee, and gotten the toxic substance all over the coffee maker.

Needless to say, Hermann had not been pleased. 

His right eye had begun twitching at a slightly worrying rate, the piece of chalk in his hand had snapped in half with the force of his grip.

“Is it possible,” he began tightly, and Newt braced himself for a lecture, “for you to be even slightly aware of your environment, and the fact that you share it with other people!”

Newt pressed his lips together and sighed. “Look, Herms-”

“Are you honestly-”

“ _You_ ,” Newt continued, running over Hermann’s words, “try having to wear gloves for literally every second of your job, and not forget to take them off once and awhile! Besides, before I got my shit all over that thing, there was chalk dust from you!”

“There was no such thing!” Hermann snapped defensively. Newt rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, dude, there totally was! You’re being super hypocritical about this.”

Hermann’s frown deepened, and, tightening his grip on his cane, he leaned in closer.

“I am not, and you would be extremely wise to both clean this up, and prevent incidents like this in the future. Understood?”

Newt shrugged, although the effect was lost as he leaned back a little. “Whatever, man.”

He slunk back to his work station, pulling off his gloves before plucking his glasses from his face. Newt rubbed at the small indents they left and sighed. He really did feel bad about the mess, but sometimes Hermann was just so… infuriating, he supposed, that Newt would rather stick his head into a Kaiju’s gaping maw than apologise. 

Newt shook his head and pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. Whatever. Whatever! Hermann was just… well, Hermann was just Hermann. Stupid, fussy, stick-up-the-ass Hermann, with his stupid, barely concealed passion that made his eyes sparkle and Newt’s stomach do flip flops.

Oh, yeah, Newt may have had a crush on the literal worst human being in the world.

This fact intensified in it’s pathetic-ness as Newt felt Hermann’s disapproving gaze burn into the back of his head. Without turning around, he flipped Hermann the bird, and smiled privately at the offended noise behind him.

\--

“Hey, Hermann?”

“What, Newton.”

“Have you see my scissors?”

Hermann fished around his workspace, pushing aside a variety of tools, Kaiju matter, and general junk. He lifted the crumpled first page of his old freshman thesis, shrugged, and tossed it in the wastebin before continuing his search. 

From across the room, Hermann’s eyes darted to his desk drawer, before he replied, “No, although I’m not surprised you lost them with that pigsty of a workspace you have over there.”

Newt waved a hand in his direction. “Herms, seriously, I need them. Did someone, like, take them or something?”

“No,” said Hermann, like a liar.

Newt ran a (ungloved, thankfully) hand through his hair. “Goddamn it. Hold down the fort, Herms, I’ve gotta go find another pair.”

Newt hurried out the door of the lab, cursing under his breath as he went. Hermann bit his lip, and the words, “Newton, wait,” almost escaped from his mouth before Newt was gone.

He gave a heavy sigh and twirled the chalk in his fingers. Oh well. Newt would find another pair soon enough.

\--

After three (3) and a half hours, Newt trudged back into the lab looking like he wouldn’t mind killing a man right about then. 

Hermann couldn't help but smile smugly. “I take it you didn't find anything?” 

In response, Newt shot him a scathingly dirty look and flopped onto his desk chair. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Language,” chided Hermann, still in a good mood from the three hours of blissful quiet. Newt rolled his eyes and began to spin in the chair.

“You would think that someone would have, like, _one_ pair of left scissor to space, but no! Literally all of them are being used!”

“This may come as a surprise to you Newton, but you are not the only left-handed person in the Shatterdome.”

“Yeah- I know that!” Newt replied, spinning faster, “but they could at least share. I mean, I know I didn't lose mine because I actually put them away last night, so someone must have stolen them!”

Hermann made a noncommittal noise and climbed down his ladder. He took his cane from where it leaned against the blackboard, and hobbled over to his own desk. Pulling open one of the drawers, he reached in and retrieved Newt’s scissors.

Looking far too pleased with himself, Hermann held them up. “It must be quite irritating when people don't respect the things that don't belong to them.”

Newt’s eyes widened, and he lept out of his chair, stumbling a bit from dizziness. “You tweed-fucking bastard! Give those back!”

He marched across the room and snatched at the scissors, but Hermann held them just out of reach. He jumped a little, but Hermann just raised them higher.

“Not until you apologize for yesterday. This blatant disregard of yours stops now!”

Newt glared and swiped again for his scissors. “Seriously? ‘Blatant disregard’? Are you even listening to yourself right now? And besides, when you mess with my stuff, I don't go and steal yours!”

He pushed Hermann back a few steps, his fingers almost brushing the tips of the blades. Newt leaned forward, Herman leaned back, and stumbled backwards, catching himself on the wall. Newt followed, landing with one hand gripping Hermann’s wrist, and the other resting on his hip. Their chests were pressed together, and Newt stared up at Hermann’s face inches away.

His eyes glazed over for a moment, breath catching at he could feel the steady pulse of Hermann’s heartbeat through his skin. Newt’s lips parted just a bit, and a shaky puff of air escaped them as he blinked slowly.

Suddenly, Hermann’s eyes widened, and a deep crimson blush spread across his cheeks up to the tips of his ears.

“What are you _doing_ you ineffable animal! Get off of me!”

Newt swallowed quickly and backed away several steps, snatching his scissors back as he went. He stood stiffly a few feet away, looking anywhere other than in front of him. His own cheeks burned, and Newt wondered if Hermann had felt his own pounding heart as well.

Hermann walked briskly back to his desk, knocking his cane against Newt’s ankles along the way. “I swear,” he muttered just loud enough for Newt to hear, “you can't go five bloody minutes without making an arse of yourself.”

Newt huffed in annoyance, slightly glad that things had shifted from the awkward tension of a few seconds before. “Don't talk to yourself, Hermann,” he said bitingly, shuffling over to his work station and quickly snapping a pair of gloves on, “you'll look crazier than you already are.”

“Says the Kaiju groupie with tattoos of horrifying abominations on his arms.”

“To the guy with a boner for his calculator.”

“Prat.”

“Tightass.”

“Blithering monkey.”

“Whatever. I can't believe I'm just working on a Kaiju right now, when the real dinosaur here is you,” Newt quipped, proud of himself for such a clever comeback. He plunged into a Kaiju thigh with gusto, fishing around for tissue and decidedly not thinking about his hands, which still felt warm from where they had touched Hermann.

Behind him, he could have sworn he heard the man grumble about punks, further proving Newt’s point. A strange rush of fondness swept through him, and he quickly buried himself more into his work.

The Kaiju mouth was looking better by the second.


End file.
